


Let Me Call You Mine ( Just For Tonight )

by gracie137



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Drunken Shenanigans, Feels, First Time Blow Jobs, Humor, M/M, Medieval Fantasy AU, Pagan Festivals, Prince Draco Malfoy, Semi-Public Sex, The Burrow Is A Pub, Too Many Gingers, draco has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 07:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/pseuds/gracie137
Summary: When Pansy suggests they sneak out of the castle to experience the commoners' festivities, Draco thinks it's the worst idea she has ever had. That is until he meets Harry and he's forced to reconsider everything he ever believed.Draco has always known it's easy to be the person you want to be when you're wearing a mask, but he's never been prepared for what happens when the masks come off.





	Let Me Call You Mine ( Just For Tonight )

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magpie_fngrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/gifts).



> *Taps the mike* Hello, is anyone here... I am so sorry this is nearly a month late Magpie, but actually getting a story line I could run with proved more challenging than I hoped but then this one hit me last night and here we are. You're an absolute delight of a person, a wonderful writer and just a great person to know in the fandom. I know you've been talking about AU's recently, and this is the kinda thing I want to write for orginal fic, so I was really excited to give this a go and I really hope you like it!!
> 
> Shout out to UntilOurApathy for being an amazing beta

Draco tugged the cloak closer around his body as they pushed through the crowds, Pansy’s hand gripping onto his almost too tightly. Her nails were going to leave marks, which he thought was awfully unfair seeing as this had been  _ her  _ idea.

Draco hadn’t wanted to sneak out of the palace. What reason did he have to leave the comfort of his guards and the warmth of his room?

He wasn’t jostled and forgotten in the palace. He wasn’t walking around nearly slipping into muddy puddles and having his foot stomped on by the desperate crowds of the Spring Coming festival.

The Spring Coming festival that Draco had attended yesterday had been a different game altogether. There had been beautiful music as a piano had been charmed to play itself, floating lanterns of flickering fire and wreathed flowers of all colours and patterns. Polite conversation and careful dancing. Couples meeting and smiling, the right words being exchanged to the right people. Draco had been the centre of attention as the Crown Prince of Slytherin and with Pansy at his side, he had felt invincible.

He was a no-one here and now. What happened if he died? Someone could murder him — then his parents would be left without an heir! Not that Draco liked to think any of the people wanted to kill him… Did they? He didn’t interact with them much, but it wasn’t like Pansy knew them either. She had lived just as much of a sheltered life as his in her fancy castle. They had been engaged since birth, there was little freedom for living on the wild side for either of them.

Draco clutched Pansy’s hand tighter and moved closer to Greg. That had been Draco’s condition when agreeing/when he had agreed to Pansy’s ludicrous idea, that they brought Greg. If Pansy thought Draco was going anywhere without his personal guard she was mistaken. Even if Draco had more magic in his pinky finger than half these commoners had in their whole family… He was still outnumbered.

Draco had let her convince him to dress down, though. His fears of being murdered were high enough without broadcasting the royal green sigil proudly. Also, Greg was certainly not going to be able to protect Draco as well if he was too busy being clubbed over the head and blamed for the fact people were hungry.

As if it was Greg’s fault, that they were hungry, or even Draco’s by that matter . It wasn’t Draco’s fault the crops were failing and that the castle had needed preparing. The people should have understood that the royal family’s comfort was a priority.

Draco ducked his head as they passed a fire-breather, a man with wild red hair and a wicked scar as he breathed fire for the crowd. Draco paused for a moment, watching as the man’s face glowed.

It was tradition to wear a mask for Spring Coming festivities, but this man wasn’t wearing one. He clearly wanted to be seen, he wanted to stand out and he didn’t care who knew him. 

Such garishness would never be seen at the palace Spring Coming. They had had fire dancers one year for the Summer Welcoming, but they had been beautiful and graceful. Light colours, flower garlands, floating clothes that looked like they had been made by a soft breeze itself. They hadn’t been cat-called by the audience, and the audience hadn’t been a crowd of half-drunk commoners.

The crowd at the palace would also never have been caught dead in the clothes of the commoners. The fabric was either too thick or too thin, the colours too bright or too muted. It lacked the subtle grace, the easy beauty, the civilised… well, wealth.

The man tipped back his head and roared, the fire spewing out of his mouth and up into the night sky. He grinned and the crowd screamed in approval. They probably weren’t used to such blatant displays of magic.

Draco couldn’t help but stare — the man knew how to grab people’s attention. And he was good looking, even with the scar. It made him look not-quite-human, and in his spring costume, he looked beyond this world. Like one of the gods had opened up the veil and strolled through.

“If you like Billy here’s act, then step right inside,” another ginger appeared on the stand, clapping the fire-breather on the back in an affectionate manner.

“Welcome to Weasleys Wonders! Celebrate Spring Coming in style! Merely a few Knuts to enter and the memories will last forever!” a third ginger, that happened to look exactly like the second ginger, appeared, grinning wildly at the crowd.

Draco blinked. He had never seen so many gingers before in his life. He wracked his brain, but he couldn’t place a single ginger that existed at court. There was a good reason for it then, if they were all this annoying.

“Make all your good fortune this year,” ginger twin number one said before giving the crowd a dramatic wink, “because you know who won’t be giving it to us.”

The crowd roared with laughter and Draco froze.

They couldn’t be talking about… No that would be… People didn’t…

“Are they…” Draco trailed off, gazing up to meet Greg’s face.

“We should go,” Greg murmured, putting his body between Draco and the gingers. “You won’t be welcome here if our cover is blown.”

“It was just a joke, everyone makes cracks at the royals,” Pansy huffed, crossing her arms. She was in a beautiful white mask painted with red and gold roses, but Draco could see her dark eyes glaring at him despite it. She had curled her hair and dusted glitter across her body. She did look like the goddess of flowers. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Greg blinked, his black bandit mask doing nothing to blend in with the Spring festivities or hide his disapproval. Pansy had popped some Satyr horns on his head as a joke and he hadn’t removed them. He did look hilarious, but Draco also got the sense Greg wasn’t amused. “Go inside the place that just made a crack at the royal family?”

Pansy waved her hand in dismissal. “It was a joke, they won’t do anything. And anyway, they won’t know it’s us.” She wiggled her fingers at Draco before laughing. “Also, we’re walking weapons, what’s the fear?”

Draco bought his hands up to his green mask instinctively. It was too delicate for this place, the rest of the men with bare chests and wild green and brown whorls painted across them. He had never blended in given his harsh, pointed Malfoy features and his white hair, but here he screamed different. He had allowed Pansy to talk him into wearing a laurel crown, but he was too afraid to lower his hood to show it off.

Pansy was the same, with her dusted glitter instead of cheap paint. There was no way they were going to survive this night.

“Well, I’m going in,” Pansy said, hiking up her dress and exposing her fine leather boots. She shook her head, hood falling backwards and revealing her delicately plaited hair, interwoven with flowers and sparkling in the fire’s light. “You stand out more, looking so afraid,” she added, before marching off into the crowd.

“Pansy!” Draco squawked, daring forward after his friend, resisting as Greg’s beefy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Draco squirmed glaring up at Greg. “Let go of me!”

“I can’t let you go in there,” Greg hissed.

Draco scowled, jerking away from Greg. Greg let him go but he raised his eyebrows as if challenging Draco to try and push him. To try and go inside.

Draco never had liked being told what to do.

Draco squared his shoulders and raised up his chin, mirroring what his father had taught him. He stepped closer to Greg and dropped his voice just enough so that no one would over hear them. “I am your Crown Prince, and Pansy is my betrothed. We are the future of this kingdom, and so you are going to escort me into this…” Draco cast a disparaging look at the building in front of them, with its not-quite-straight-walls, and roof half-fallen apart, “place and help me ensure that she is okay.”

Draco glanced back at the building. It was a curious place, with a shabby sign hanging from the wall reading  _ The Burrow.  _ However, despite its run-done appearance, the queue was flowing out of the door.Through the windows, Draco could catch sight of people dancing as if they had only one day left to live. The sound of live music echoed out of the building and down the street, drawing the crowd like moths to a flame.

The building seemed alive in a way that Draco had never seen before.

“Draco,” Greg sighed.

“We’re going in,” Draco said firmly, steeling his own nerves before he gave in to his cowardice. This was Pansy and she had potentially put herself at risk.

Also, if Pansy died Draco would be forced to find another fucking betrothed and Pansy was at least tolerable. She was also more than willing to turn a blind eye to the way Draco’s eyes followed men more than they would ever follow her.

“As long as you can get it up long enough to give me a baby, I don’t give a fuck,” Pansy had rather eloquently said one evening after catching Draco in a rather embarrassing position with the stable boy. Draco had tried to protest but Pansy had silenced him with a glare before adding, “And if you can’t get it up for me alone, then I guess we’ll be having a wedding night that includes a stable boy. That will be one for the history books.”

Draco had tried to get hard by thinking of Pansy when he was alone. And when he couldn’t, because he had known Pansy for so long — he liked to blame it on that fact — he tried to think of Lady Astoria and other beautiful women in the kingdom. However, he always fell short as soft thighs turned to muscle, and curves to hard lines. Breasts became firm chests and vaginas… Well, Draco didn’t know what  _ that _ fucking looked like so he struggled not imagining cocks in the first place.

Draco squared his shoulders and slipped through the crowds. He wasn’t used to having to jostle for room, people normally just moved for him. People normally didn’t dare elbow him out of the way. People didn’t dare stand in front of him sometimes.

Greg handed over their money — the entry was a pitiful amount, really — and soon enough they were inside.

The building was just as shabby on the inside but no one else seemed to notice. Draco had never been inside a place with this many people. Or at least a place this small with this many people.

“Let’s go to the bar!” Greg yelled, pulling some obscene hand gestures that Draco presumed were meant to echo what he just said. “See if we can see her!”

Draco nodded, letting Greg guide him through the throng of people. They were all fascinating, grinding against each other, dancing in a way that would never be allowed in the palace. Never be allowed in Draco’s world. And for just a moment, Draco longed for it.

He longed to be able to throw back his hood, to throw his hands up and dance to the strange music that he had never heard before. He longed for the first time not to be Prince Draco Abraxas Lucius Malfoy, Crown Prince, and Sole Heir to the Kingdom of Slytherin, but just Draco. A normal boy who just wanted to dance to a fun song, without a care in the world, until the sun came up.

“Would you guys like a drink or are you just going to stand there and brood?”

Draco’s jaw nearly dropped as he spun around at the sound of the voice. No one spoke to him like that, no one…

He was met by a crooked grin that gripped him instantly.

“Urm—” Draco stammered out, thanking every god out there that his mask covered his cheeks. His pale skin had always been far too prone to blushing for a Prince, as his father always said. The only part of his face exposed was his mouth, he hadn’t wanted to risk any more.

This barman had nothing to hide in a brown mask that only covered his eyes. It looked like bark, and the green painted splattered across it only illuminated his eyes. His cheeks were dotted with freckles that suggested days spent in the sun, and the careless manner in which  the spring paint was thrown over his entire costume had Draco’s mouth going dry.

This man was a no one. A nobody. A nothing, and yet Draco felt drawn to him. He could feel his magic.

“What, winter got your tongue?” The man laughed, and it was such a free and easy sound. Draco hadn’t imagined a commoner capable of making such a sound. “So, no drinks?”

“No,” Greg said firmly, just as Draco blurted out. “Yes please.”

Draco could feel Greg glowering at him, and he could almost hear Greg’s brain running through the ways to drag Draco out of there kicking and screaming. Or, ideally, with as little noise as possible.

“Whatcha want then?” The man asked, leaning forward and exposing tanned forearms, dark hair scattered across them. Draco had never known arm hair could be so fascinating. “Or am I meant to guess?”

“What would you recommend?” Draco asked, slowly leaning forward to mimic the man’s posture. He could almost hear his mother screaming in his head about a Prince’s social standing, and he could most definitely hear his heart thudding in his chest as if it might break out at any second.

A slow smile curled at the man’s mouth as he took Draco in. Draco could feel his blush darkening and again thanked the gods for whoever decided that Spring Coming should involve masks. Draco knew there was some religious claim, but it had slipped his mind. The real reason was occasions like this — letting people be whoever they wanted, even for just the briefest of moments. Spring was about new beginnings, and nothing said  _ be the person you want to be  _ like being hidden behind a mask.

“I’ll make you up something special,” the man drawled, winking at Draco before turning to Greg. “Anything for you, mate?”

Draco wasn’t sure if Greg had ever been called  _ mate  _ in his life.

“No,” Greg said firmly. Draco could almost feel his murderous gaze.

The man threw Draco another smile before turning around to speak to another ginger as he made the drinks (did this place breed gingers? Draco was astounded that his man had dark hair, perhaps that was the appeal in this establishment?) The ginger threw Draco a suspicious look before getting distracted.

“Draco,” Greg hissed, his hands clenched on Draco’s shoulder. Draco gave him a firm look and Greg’s fingers relinquished their grip ever so slightly. Draco bruised easily. “You shouldn’t do this. You can’t do this. We should find Pansy and leave.”

Leave. Back to the palace, where it was safe and everything Draco had ever known. That was the smart thing to do, what he should do. However, for the first time in his life, Draco didn’t want to. He wanted to experience tonight. He wanted to spend just a brief fleeting moment with this hypnotic green-eyed man, even if it was in this shithole.

“I can do whatever I want, and I want to stay here,” Draco said, stepping back totally out of Greg’s grip. His expression softened at Greg’s lost expression. “Go find Pans, make sure she isn’t dead in a hole somewhere.”

“But—” Greg started.

“I command you to have fun,” Draco murmured, gazing at Greg, imploring him to understand. “I can look after myself.”

Draco knew Greg could refuse — Greg’s duty to keep him safe technically over rode any orders Draco might give him.

For a moment, Draco thought he had failed and that Greg was going to refuse. However, Greg then sighed and he fixed Draco with a firm look. “We’re heading back at midnight. You have two hours.”

Draco nodded. “Yes.”

Greg shook his head and muttered something that Draco couldn’t quite catch before wandering off.

“Your bodyguard finally wandered off?”

Draco spun back around. “He’s not my bodyguard!” He spluttered, instantly cursing himself.

The man’s eyebrows shot up above the mask. “I was kidding.”

“Oh,” Draco said, feeling like an idiot and shifting awkwardly. He wasn’t used to feeling like an idiot. “Is that my drink?”

“Yep, that will be five sickles.”

Draco handed over the money without question before inspecting the smoking drink in front of him, taking a tentative sniff. “What is this?”

“They call it Firewhiskey, the twins invented it for the celebrations.”

Draco nodded as he stared at the bubbling liquid, a smooth amber colour, the sweet scents of cinnamon and nutmeg greeting him. Spring Coming was all about burning away winter’s cold and the darkness that came with it. The drink seemed perfect for the occasion.

“Promise I didn’t poison it,” the man said, leaning even closer to Draco across the bar. “Don’t you trust me?”

Draco swallowed at the man’s proximity, the flecks of green paint across his collarbones, disappearing under that thin white shirt. “What reason do I have to?”

“None I guess,” the man said, “how do I make you trust me?”

“Two things,” Draco said, trying to summon every bit of Princely courage and standing he was supposed to have inside of him.

“What?”

“You have a drink too, and you give me your name,” Draco tilted his chin up again.

The man cocked his head to the side. “My name’s Harry and you can have that for free, but as for the drink, unfortunately I’m meant to be working.”

“I’ll buy you,” Draco said quickly before realising exactly what he had said. “I mean I’ll buy you a drink, cover your shift! Not that I would literally buy you because I don’t think you’re a… you know… whore…” 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted,” he paused, and Draco was relieved that he was still smiling. “You know you can’t buy people, right?”

“I’m not from around here,” Draco said, grasping at straws. He wasn’t used to having to work for peoples company. People usually threw themselves at his feet. They didn’t tease him and…

“And where you’re from, it's the usual to just buy people’s company?” Harry asked.

“Everything alright, mate?” The ginger from behind the bar reappeared. He was bizarrely tall, with too many freckles and offensive red hair. Draco had decided that all gingers were offensive, even the one outside with the scar that had been good looking.

“Everything is fine,” Draco snapped.

Harry gave him a firm look before turning back to the Obnoxious Ginger. “Yeah, I’m fine, mate.” The two of them stared at each other, before ginger twitched and fixed Draco with a challenging glare. He somehow managed it even with his shitty mask.

“Watch yourself,” Obnoxious Ginger said, pointing at Draco. “My family owns this place, and I won’t be afraid to kick you out.”

Draco nearly laughed. Obnoxious Ginger was threatening him? Draco could have his fucking finger cut off just for pointing it at the Prince. Obnoxious Ginger’s family might have owned this shithole but Draco’s family owned the Kingdom.

“Ron,” Harry murmured, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Ron huffed and glared at Draco before storming off to the other end of the bar.

Harry turned back to Draco, chewing on his bottom lip. “Enjoy your drink.”

“No, I—” Draco glanced about trying to figure out how to fix it. “Please, I’ve never been to a Spring Coming like this and I’d like to spend it with you.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Draco echoed.

“Yeah, why?” Harry said, “it’s not like you know me.”

“I think I’d like to,” Draco said, bringing the drink up to his lips and taking a tentative sip. Trying to prove to Harry he could be trusting. It burnt in his mouth for half a second, before leaving him feeling warm. Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and he took another sip, exhaling the smoke slowly.

Harry sighed. “Fine, let me see if I can get Gin to cover me, she owes me anyway,” he said stepping back from the bar before stepping closer again. “But first of all I want your name.”

Draco’s mind ran at a thousand miles an hour. He couldn’t very well say Draco, or Lucius or Abraxas. Draco. D. D. “Danny,” he said, grasping on the first common name that came to his mind. “My name’s Danny.”

Harry’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t say anything he just laughed and wandered off. Draco took another sip of his drink trying not to rise to the fact that Ron was quite blatantly staring at him. He’d order Greg to put Ron in the stocks for being a twat but that would blow Draco’s cover — and also Harry seemed to like Ron. Draco wanted Harry to like him.

Finally, Harry wandered back over with another fucking ginger in tow, though this one was a girl. Draco was presuming this was the elusive Gin. He watched the way that Harry and Gin reacted and debated putting Gin in stocks too for the easy smiles she charmed out of Harry. Draco scowled and took another sip of his drink as Harry, Ron and Gin joked about, but then Harry was walking towards Draco with two bottles of that golden firewhiskey tucked under his arms.

“You’re paying for this,” Harry said, and Draco slid the money across the counter to Gin who smirked at him before turning to Harry and loudly whispering.

“Remember Spring is all about sowing those wild seeds,” Gin said, and Draco’s mouth dropped open. He had never heard a girl be so publically crass before. Even Pansy only said it in Draco’s hearing.

“You too,” Harry laughed, before placing his hand on Draco’s back and guiding him over to a small table in the corner.

Draco let himself be led through the crowd, shocked at the way Harry was greeted by nearly everyone who passed him. Some with just friendly smiles, but some with easy, familiar greetings.

“You’re very popular here,” Draco noted, slipping down into the seat and tugging his hood further over his face.

Harry shrugged, taking a swig from one of the bottles before sliding the other across the table to Draco. Draco eyed it up, heard his mother start screeching in his head and took a swig. He felt a thrill run through his body that had nothing to do with the drink. Something so small as drinking from the bottle felt like such a direct rebellion.

“I work here a fair bit, do what I can to help out the Weasleys and for my trouble as they put a roof over my head,” Harry said.

“The Weasleys?”

Harry grinned, and it was so fond. “The gingers, they’re like my family.” Draco wondered if he had ever looked like that when talking about his family. He doubted it.

“I’ve never seen so many gingers,” Draco joked, breathing out when Harry laughed.

“Yeah, I always wondered if they’d disown any child they had that wasn’t ginger. It’s why I’ll only ever be an honorary Weasley,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Draco caught a glimpse of a white scar on his forehead snaking across his skin, wild and unkempt, much like Harry himself. It looked like a lightning bolt and it took everything for Draco not to pry.

Draco took another sip to stop himself asking any stupid questions. They continued like that for the next hour, possibly, passing comments and jokes backwards and forwards as they drank.

Draco had never met anyone like Harry before. Someone he found so easy to talk to, someone who challenged Draco. Whenever Draco slipped up, Harry fixed him with a firm look and an even harsher comment.

Draco had never found himself fighting to keep up before, and he liked that about Harry.

It wasn’t long until his head was buzzing in a way that wine had never allowed, and Harry was taking his hand and leading him into the centre of the room to dance.

Harry’s touch was electric as they danced, the two of them moving in tandem. Harry didn’t just have a lightning scar, he was lightning himself. Draco felt as if he could burn up from Harry’s gaze alone as they danced.

Harry was a fucking awful dancer, he moved his feet at the wrong time and he laughed too much — or maybe he laughed the perfect amount because Draco couldn’t stop smiling. Even when Harry stomped on his feet and tripped him up, his hood falling back.

Harry’s eyes flickered up to Draco’s hair and the laurel crown and Draco froze, paranoid Harry would have figured it out. However, Harry just reached up and tucked a strand of Draco’s hair behind his ear before pulling him closer again.

People always talked about feeling born again on Spring Coming, and for the first time, Draco understood as Harry pulled him closer so their bodies were flush together.

It felt so illicitly wrong to be so open in public, but with the firewhiskey burning through his veins, the mask hiding his face and Harry’s hands on his hips, Draco felt unstoppable.

Be a good son, marry a suitable girl and produce your own son. That had been Draco’s life, but this right here was the first time he had ever truly felt in control.

Was it all a joke? How could the Crown Prince have no control of his life?

However, Draco didn’t get to contemplate it in too much detail because Harry was leaning in and then they were kissing, and Draco’s mask made it awkward but it was the best kiss of Draco’s life — not that he had had very many. He had kissed Pansy, the stable boy and Blaise. Harry didn’t seem to have Draco’s inexperience, and Draco was more than happy to let Harry lead.

He felt like he ought to be fighting for control. He was the Crown Prince of Slytherin and here he was dancing a commoner’s dance. But Harry’s mouth was wet, and his grip was firm and when he asked Draco if he wanted to head out back Draco was powerless to do anything but nod.

Spring Coming was about trying new things. What could it hurt? Just once?

But, Draco wasn’t sure he could only have Harry just once as Harry pushed him up against the back wall, his hands gripping onto Draco’s cloak and pulling him closer and closer. They were magnetic.

Draco could feel their magic crackling together, seeking each other out. He had never met a commoner who felt like Harry did. Who had enough magic that it seeped out of him, most of them could only perform parlour tricks.

Draco tangled his own hands into Harry’s messy hair, pushing his body against Harry’s, wanting more. The contact was too much yet not enough at the same time. He felt like this was a dance or a song he had been preparing for his whole life.

Draco wanted to rip his mask off and throw it away, but he couldn’t lose himself in the passion to that extent. He wasn’t  _ that  _ foolish.

Then Harry groaned and started kissing Draco’s neck, and Draco’s head fell back hitting the wall. What would people say if they could see him now?

Their Crown Prince, their supposed prize and glory, getting hot and heavy in a back alley of a run down tavern with a commoner. A commoner without a family, by the sound of it.

Draco didn’t care. Why didn’t he care? He should care.

“Let me suck you,” Harry whispered, and all remaining fucks Draco had to give about the so-called wrongness of the situation promptly jumped off a cliff.

“Suck me?” Draco croaked out, remembering Theo’s lewd jokes about the things he had got up to with kitchen maids.

“Yeah,” Harry said, stepping back and smiling crookedly at him. “Want me to?”

Draco could only nod. He had lost all ability to speak as he watched Harry sink to his knees. Harry slowly untied his mask and dropped it on the floor beside him. Draco took the moment to take in those fantastic eyes, dark lashes and the freckles on his cheeks in the dim light. He wondered what Harry looked like in the sun. He would bet it was spectacular.

Harry’s fingers were thick and slow as he unlaced Draco’s bottoms, and Draco was already panting by the time Harry wrapped his hand around his cock.

The only person who had touched Draco’s prick, bar his own hand, had been the stable boy and it hadn’t felt like this. Draco felt like he might die if Harry didn’t start moving his hand soon.

However, Harry didn’t start moving his hand — he leaned in and licked a wet stripe up Draco’s cock. Draco groaned and it was the base noise of an animal. He sounded like one of the overly devoted worshipers of the god and goddess of procreation.

It didn’t get any easier to be silent as Harry swallowed Draco down, his mouth hot and wet and sinful. Draco firmly believed that he could have been convinced to kill for Harry in that moment. If Harry had looked up at him with those huge green eyes, lips wrapped around Draco’s cock and asked him to murder for him, Draco would have.

Draco would have burned down kingdoms for Harry in that moment.

It was over too quickly, and Draco came with a whimper, not a shout, his knees buckling as he dropped down beside Harry on the floor.

“Good?” Harry asked, smiling as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Good,” Draco laughed weakly, reaching out and tracing his finger’s across Harry’s thigh. “Let me please you?”

Harry swallowed, as he undid his own trousers and pulled his cock out.

“Have you ever?” Harry started, and Draco shook his head, blushing hard. “Here,” Harry said, taking Draco hand and whispering a lubrication spell before guiding Draco’s hand onto Harry’s cock.

Draco bit his lip as he started to move his hand, listening to Harry’s soft instructions of harder, slower, softer, faster until Draco began to feel more confident and began using little tricks that he himself always liked on himself.

He loved the power of dragging moans from Harry’s mouth or the way Harry’s eyes fluttered shut. How Harry’s face creased as he came, spurting over Draco’s hand and biting down hard on his bottom lip.

Harry laughed again when they were done, and Draco leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Harry’s mouth. It felt like a fairy tale, like a perverted version of one of the stories Pansy loved, especially as their magic sparked between them.

The one where the Prince finds a Pauper and they kiss in the backstreets, and at midnight the Prince returns to his castle never to be seen again.

The ending didn’t sound like a fairy tale to Draco.

“Take off your mask,” Harry said, once they had buttoned themselves back up.

“No,” Draco said, recoiling at the request as Harry jolted him from his thoughts.

Harry frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I said so,” Draco said, getting to his feet and trying to calm his breathing.

Harry paused as if wrestling with a thought before sighing and saying: “I know who you are.”

Draco staggered, reaching out for the wall to stop himself collapsing before stabilising himself. He could not show weakness, he would not show weakness. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Harry sighed again. “I know who you are, you’re Prince Draco.”

Draco dug his nails into his palms, his magic sparking as his body went into shock. “I beg your pardon.”

“It’s the way you talk — and I recognised Goyle, your bodyguard, and your hair. I know who you are,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not an idiot,you hid yourself awfully and—”

“You’re wrong,” Draco hissed, his breathing becoming more erratic. He had desperately tried to become the icy figure his parents desired, but he had never been able to. He had always burnt too hot. “You’re wrong and I’m leaving.”

“Draco,” Harry said, lunging and grabbing Draco’s wrist, his fingers sticky from the night’s events. Harry glanced down at his hand, nose wrinkled and then suddenly it was clean. Draco’s jaw dropped at the blatant power from a commoner before realising what was going on.

Draco shoved him away, eyes flashing. “If I was in fact your Crown Prince I could have your hand for that,” he growled — it was safer to fall back on his temper. He knew how to handle people when he wanted to yell at them. “I could have your head for all of this, so leave me alone!”

“Draco,” Harry repeated weaker this time, merely reaching for Draco’s hand. Reaching for Draco’s hand as if Draco was some common pauper like Harry, and for one moment, Draco wished he was. He wished he could take Harry’s hand because he had  _ never  _ felt this for anyone. Even if he had only met Harry tonight, wasn’t something better than the nothing he had with Pansy?

“Leave me alone,” Draco spat, pushing the thought from his mind. He couldn’t dwell on it, and with that he yanked open the door and ran back into the fray of  _ The Burrow _ .

Moving through the crowd of hot, sticky bodies was no longer enjoyable. It was no longer thrilling. Draco could barely see through the crowd how was he supposed to find Greg and Pansy. How was he supposed to go home?

That was all Draco wanted, he wanted to go home. Spring Coming was nearly over, it had to be nearly over and Draco would return home and take off his mask and live the life he was supposed to.

He tried not to think of what Harry’s kiss had promised. Harry had known the risk he was taking and he had done it anyway. Harry had dropped to his knees for the Crown Prince. Draco could have him killed. His father would most certainly have Harry killed, but Draco didn’t want that… Sweet gods, he didn’t want that at all.

Harry and those green eyes, and messy hair, and that scar. The fact he was human electricity, thrumming and pulsing. Draco felt like he had been struck, and would never recover. He finally understood why lighting was so dangerous. He finally understood that it could indeed kill.

“Danny? Danny?” Draco turned at the feel of a hand on his shoulder, ready to snap. His mind was still turning too fast. It was Gin, she had thrown off her mask showing herself to be just as freckled as her brother. “You okay? Where’s Harry?”

“I’ve lost my friend,” Draco said, squeezing his nails into his palm to keep his voice from trembling. “I need to go.”

Gin’s golden eyes searched his face for a moment, her lips pursed before she sighed. “Okay,” she nodded, taking his hand and leading him back over to the bar where Ron glared at him.

Gin promptly climbed up onto the bar and cast a Sonus charm. “Right!” Gin yelled, moving further and further away from Draco’s expectations of a lady. “Danny here is from out of town and has lost his friends,” she glanced down at Draco, “what are they called?”

“Greg and Pans,” Draco said, wrapping his arms around himself. What if Harry reappeared?

“Greg and Pans!” Gin yelled, “Please come to the front and collect your friend!” The crowd stared at her and she threw them all a wicked grin. “And the rest of you carry on partying, I don’t think Spring feels quite welcome yet!”

The crowd roared in approval and threw themselves back into dancing as if they had never stopped. Or perhaps they had started dancing now, as if they had lost time to make up for.

Draco slumped against the bar and sighed, eyes darting about trying to catch sight of Pansy’s blue dress or Greg’s general self.

“You’re welcome,” Gin remarked dryly, climbing down from the bar.

Draco glanced over, frowning. “Oh yes, urm… thank you?”

Gin laughed. “You’re a strange one.”

Draco scowled and turned back to the crowd. “You’re rude.” Gin laughed again and Draco was just about to go tell Gin exactly what he thought of her when a large beefy hand settled around his wrist. Draco glanced up into Greg’s furious face and managed a weak smile. “Oh good, you found me.”

“We’re leaving,” Greg growled. Draco glanced around Greg’s hulking body and nodded at Pansy who was glaring at him.

“Hullo Pans.”

“Do you have to ruin everything?”

“We’re going,” Greg said, turning to start dragging them through the crowd.

“Dra— Danny!” Draco recognised Harry’s voice and suddenly sped up.

“Yes, great idea Greg, we should go.”

Greg didn’t stop moving but he somehow managed to look even more pissed off as he glared down at Draco. “What have you done?”

“Nothing,” Draco muttered, pulling his hood back up so Harry couldn’t follow his hair.

“Gods have mercy on me,” Greg groaned, but he managed to get them through the crowd, out of  _ The Burrow _ and back into the streets. The fire breather was long gone as were most of the crowds, having settled into venues for the night, but they still had to work to get through the crowds. It wasn’t until they were out of the city centre and moving back towards the palace that Draco could breathe again. It wasn’t a long walk, and soon Draco could make out the outlines of the castle lit by the fires and was guarded by his men.

The castle was safe. The castle was his past, present and future. It was everything he had ever known and everything he ever would know. Harry had just been a…

“Draco.”

Greg spun around his sword at the ready. “Who goes there?”

Pansy shot Draco a glance and mouthed, “ _ What did you do?” _

“Draco,” Harry’s voice came again, and then there he was moving out of the shadows, his hands up in surrender, eyes darting between Draco and Greg.

“Stand back from your Prince,” Greg growled.

Harry’s face was so beautifully open, and he was so… Draco didn’t have the words to express how in awe he was of the way Harry just took what he wanted. Not in the way that Draco and his family did with force and power, Harry just… Draco wanted to give himself over to Harry. He wanted Harry. He could still feel Harry’s kiss.

“I want to speak to you, Draco,” Harry said, not even looking at Greg.

Draco bit his lip. “Why?”

Harry stepped closer again, and Greg raised his sword higher. “Because I have things I want to say. I don’t want to walk away and be left thinking about this for the rest of my life.”

“I…” Draco trailed off. He was supposed to be firm and authoritative but he had nothing to say, for the first time in his life.“What do you think is going to happen? I’m going to run away with you? Or that you’re going to marry me despite your status? This isn’t a fairy tale, Harry.”

Harry grinned despite everything, and Draco couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m not asking for forever right now, Draco, I’m asking for a chance. I think we work well together.”

“You’re a fool,” Draco murmured, as he stepped closer to Harry despite Greg’s hissed warnings, and despite everything he knew.

“I’ve been called worse,” Harry laughed, and then they were standing nose to nose, Harry slowly reaching out and taking Draco’s hand. “Come see me again, let’s see where this goes.”

Harry was a fool. A complete idiot. This would never work. It was ludicrous. Mental. Madness itself. His mother had told him stories about Spring Coming madness and he had never believed her, but then he found himself nodding, whispering “ _ Yes _ ” and kissing Harry again. Right there in the middle of the street, right there in front of Pansy and Greg. Their magic going wild for each other.

Draco stepped back after a moment, and Harry smiled at him. “Come find me sometime soon, Draco,” Harry murmured, squeezing Draco’s hand before turning and vanishing back into the shadows.

“You’re an idiot,” Greg moaned in the background. “You’re trying to get yourself killed.”

Draco just smiled and brought his fingers to his lips, still lost in the taste of Harry.

“I told you it was a great idea to come tonight,” Pansy preened.

It hadn’t been, because now Draco was teetering on the edge of the unknown for some commoner he had met once. And he couldn’t fall. He shouldn’t fall. But perhaps he would, and perhaps it would be marvellous.

So despite everything, Draco smiled. “Oh shut up.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well I hope you all enjoyed it, and if you did please let me know as comments and kudos fuel my soul <3
> 
> Come find me on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com)


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